


wake up slow (lets pretend like there's no world outside)

by whataboutateakettle



Category: Scorpion (TV 2014)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Lazy Mornings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-01
Updated: 2016-03-01
Packaged: 2018-05-24 02:35:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6138397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whataboutateakettle/pseuds/whataboutateakettle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She wants to say it’s early, but really she has no idea what time it is, and she doesn’t want to know.</p>
            </blockquote>





	wake up slow (lets pretend like there's no world outside)

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by me not wanting to get out of bed and also Jack Johnson's banana pancakes, I give to you the shortest cutesiest thing I've ever done. Maybe. 
> 
>  
> 
> ~~I promise the next thing I upload will be the next chapter of you're magnetic, I'm metallic~~

She feels the bed dips slightly next to her and she nestles her face further unto her pillow, away from the light shining through her curtains. Everything feels warm and easy, and the sheets around her feel cool and smooth against her bare skin.

She wants to say it’s early, but really she has no idea what time it is, and she doesn’t want to know. Instead she just lets herself gently weave in and out of sleep; the noises from the street from the kitchen, from the world sound miles away.

There’s a faint clink of mugs on wood and she feels the bed dip again and then, for a moment, nothing.

He presses his lips softly to her shoulder, letting them linger and it pulls her into sentience a tiny bit more. And more and more as his lips trails across the top of her shoulder and behind her neck and along. She moans, the sound is muffled by her pillow, vibrates in her chest. It’s only partly because she wants to keep sleeping.

She feels him smile against her skin, feels him run a hand down under the sheet and along her bare back until it grazes past her hip and tucks under her hipbone.

“You’re usually running circles around me in the mornings,” he reminds her, his voice light but still a little sleepy.

She is. More often than not she’s up and at least on her way to the shower before he can even remember what day it is.

She pushes herself up so she’s lying on her side, the sheet drops and she can’t be fussed to pull it back. Rather, she just blinks against the light, tries to focus her eyes and lets herself smile faintly. “What can I say, Doc? You wore me out.”

It’s only partly a joke and he hums appreciatively, trails his hand from her hip so it’s cupping the other side of her waist and pulls her towards him until she’s flat on her back and gazing up at him through tired eyes. If she closed them now, she could be back to sleep in no time and the idea sounds as enticing as any she’s ever had. Instinctively, she reaches up for him, grasps gently at his shoulder and pulls at him until he’s lying down beside her.

“I made coffee,” he objects, but doesn’t make any attempt to move away as she pulls the sheet over both of them and curls herself into him.

“Hmmph. Later,” she murmurs, presses her face her face in the crook of the bed and his body, feels herself fade back into sleep before he even stops stirring next to her.

The next thing she’s aware of is the soft sound of pages turning and she takes her time lifting her head and opening her eyes against the light, even brighter now. She’s still curled into him, except he’s half sat up now, head leaning against the headboard. She’s not even sure now he managed to shift so far without waking her up, but he’s skimming a folded over medical journal in one hand and holding a cup of coffee in the other.

She groans, pushes herself up so she’s sitting next to him, shoulders touching, and pulls the sheet up with her. Once she’s settled, she takes the mug from his hand and takes a sip, makes a face at the hazelnut creamer he insists on, before taking yet another one. “How are you so awake?”

“For the record, I think your exhaustion has more to do with our last case and not just my handiwork last night,” he grins at her, takes back his coffee and she glares at him, continues to do so until he leans over and presses his lips to her gently. She presses back lazily, enjoys the soft contact of him being so close.

“Although I don’t mind taking credit,” he adds quickly as he pulls away, widens his eyes playfully.

She scoffs, pushes at his arm but can’t help but smile anyway. She watches him reach over and pick up another mug off the bedside table and hand it to her. She takes it from him and he leans further to press his lips to her hair. It’s almost cold now, but she doesn’t mind, takes a sip anyway and is grateful that he knows how she likes it.

Somewhere between small sips and the silence between them she realises how hungry she is, tries to do a mental inventory of the food in her kitchen and doesn’t realise she’s think aloud until he responds, tells her they are now also out of milk. She drops a free hand to squeeze at his thigh through the sheet because he is definitely the one to blame for that, and leaves it there.

“Kovelsky’s?” She suggests, like it’s not where they go most regularly. He smiles at her in answer and holds out his mug until she clinks hers against it, then takes another sip, nearly ready to face the world.


End file.
